


Just Might Find 25

by helens78, Telesilla



Series: Just Might Find [29]
Category: Equilibrium (2002) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Beating, Bloodplay, Dom/sub, Human Furniture, Kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, Sadism, Spanking, The Establishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-13
Updated: 2006-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-05 18:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean and Bill celebrate the first day of the rest of the contract in their usual kinky style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Find 25

Like most men, Sean's got a bad memory for dates. He remembers birthdays when people kick him; he remembers holidays only if they coincide with football matches.

But he wakes up grinning and doesn't think he's going to stop all day. _Two years. Starting today. Starting now. God, how the hell did I get this lucky?_

"What's got you grinning?" Bill asks, as Sean starts moving the covers out of the way. He can't help smiling himself; Sean's grin is downright infectious.

"Nothing much, master," Sean murmurs, and God, but Bill's smile is gorgeous. "Just that today's the first of the two-year contract." He crawls up, nuzzling at Bill's thigh. "I get to be yours for two years. Don't think I could _stop_ grinning."

"Oh, well, then," Bill says, sliding his fingers into Sean's hair in order to pull his head up. "We should really celebrate. Go get a cock ring and a pair of nipple clamps."

The order's surprising, but it sounds good to Sean. He swings himself out of bed and heads for the dresser, where he picks out the appropriate toys, and he kneels up at Bill's side to present them. He wasn't kidding about not being able to keep from grinning, either; he's just so damned happy to be here. _Yours. I get to be yours._

"Let's get you smiling for other reasons," Bill says, sitting up and reaching to tug on one of Sean's nipple rings. Once he's teased the nipple into hardness, he puts the clamp on it, repeating the process on the other side. "Looks good on you," he says, tugging at the chain that connects the clamps. "Now stand up."

"Mmm." Sean licks his lips; the bite from the clamps feels good, even this early in the morning, and between that and how happy and excited he is about being here this morning, he's already hard -- something that becomes a little more obvious once he's standing at the side of the bed.

"Just inspecting the goods," Bill says, his hands busy on Sean's cock and balls. "Making sure I got a good deal, you know."

Sean groans. "Your slave certainly hopes you think so," he murmurs. He doesn't doubt it for a minute, of course, but he's enjoying Bill's hands on him far too much to say anything that might stop him.

"Oh, I think I got an excellent deal," Bill says, carefully snapping the cock ring around Sean's cock and balls. "And my excellent slave is going to put up with a bit of torture today." He slaps lightly at Sean's cock. "But first, breakfast!"

"Yes, master," Sean says, only a little confused by the order. _He doesn't want the traditional early-morning blowjob?_ But the clamps and the ring feel good, and he's not about to question an order, so it's off to make breakfast. Maybe omelettes today, he thinks; something special. He really does feel like celebrating.

Bill knows better than to tease Sean while he's cooking, but as soon as Sean's done cooking and the food is served, he reaches out and tugs on the chain connecting the nipple clamps, knowing that Sean's nipples must be seriously sensitive by now.

Sean gasps and winces, biting at his lower lip and grinning up at Bill. "Hurts, master," he says, but of course Bill knows that.

"And this is going to hurt more," Bill says, pulling first one and then the other clamp off, watching eagerly for Sean's reaction.

"Fuck," Sean blurts out, eyes closing hard as the pain jerks through him. It's bad enough at first; it gets worse for the next few seconds, and he groans, cock harder than ever. "Thank you, master."

"Good boy," Bill says. "Now come and have breakfast with me."

He has Sean sit next to him while they eat so he can reach Sean easily enough. Not only does he play with the rings in Sean's nipples, but he drags the neuro-wheel he brought to the table over whatever parts of Sean's body he can reach, leaving fine parallel scratches all over Sean's skin.

Bill seems so playful this morning; it's enough to make Sean wonder what he did to deserve such a good master. He's happy giving Bill all his reactions -- the soft hissed breath when Bill leaves scratches or runs the wheel over his skin, the lower moans when it's a tug on the clamps -- and he wonders if Bill has any plans for the day. _Or if he'll just tease me until I go mad. Not that I'd complain._

"Living room, and don't walk," Bill says, once Sean's done with the washing up. He carries his paper and coffee cup into the living room, following Sean as Sean crawls. "You look good on your hands and knees, boy," Bill says, settling on the sofa. "But now I want you over my lap."

"Yes, master!" Sean grins and happily climbs up on Bill's lap, trying not to wriggle too much once he's there. He wants to behave; he wants to be good for Bill, today especially. Everything just feels so _good_. He's had sex that didn't feel half as good as being on the receiving end of Bill's grins.

"You have one hell of a nice ass," Bill says, stroking Sean's ass as if to illustrate his point. "Very spankable," he adds, bringing his hand down sharply on Sean's left cheek.

"Ah! God," Sean pants, "thank you, master." Not squirming down against Bill's lap is going to become a real effort if Bill keeps that up. _Christ, I like this so much._

Of course Bill does keep it up, landing his hand over and over again on the same cheek. He's hitting hard -- there's no reason to go easy on Sean -- and he smiles broadly as he watches Sean's skin get red. It's a nice contrast to the right cheek, and Bill can't help chuckling. _Oh yeah, because this is all about aesthetics._

The chuckle gets Sean's attention. He turns and glances over his shoulder, trying to get a look at Bill's expression. Which just gets him that much harder; Bill looks like he's enjoying himself, and there's nothing like the feeling of getting hurt and knowing the man who's hurting him is getting off on it. "Christ, master," Sean murmurs, licking his lips again, "fuck, you feel so good, please..."

"Please what, boy?" Bill asks, pausing.

"Please... God... more," Sean says, finally giving in and squirming against Bill's thighs.

"Greedy boy," Bill says, raising his hand again. He still concentrates on Sean's left cheek, wanting Sean to be left wondering when Bill will switch sides. It's a small enough mind game, but one that Bill has always been fond of.

"Yes, master," Sean says, and since he's gotten away with the squirming so far, he squirms a little more as Bill keeps going.

Once he's gotten the one side of Sean's ass a nice bright red, Bill bends down and bites it hard, getting his teeth in and sucking hard enough to bruise.

Groaning, trying not to squirm so hard that he ends up pulling away, Sean closes his eyes and just centers himself on the pain, focusing in and loving it. "_Christ_... master... thank you," he pants.

Chuckling a little against Sean's skin, Bill finally stops, liocking at the bruise before sitting up again. "Down on the floor, boy," he says. "I need somewhere to put my feet."

"Yes, master." Sean grins and slides down onto the floor, bracing himself comfortably on knees and forearms so he'll make a nice comfortable ottoman. It's probably a sign of just how glad he is to be here that even standing in for Bill's furniture makes him happy. His cock's driving him mad, but he'll get over that. _Bloody hell, though, I wish he'd fuck me._

Bil mutters a few choice words as he reads the NY Times sports pages. _How in hell can we be playing .500 ball and still be in the fucking cellar? Fuck, we'd be in fucking first place in the West._ But he's been a Mets fan long enough to know that when you get right down to it, life just isn't fair, and so he snorts and tosses that section of the paper away.

The financial pages are better; while Bill leaves his money in the hands of his broker, he knows enough to tell that there's nothing there he needs to worry about. After a quick look at the editorials, he finally throws the last section down on the floor and sighs contentedly.

"Things could be better," he says, "but only if the Mets were in first place."

Sean smirks. There's not much he can do about that, but he would if he could. And he certainly understands the feeling. There hasn't been a match in a week, but Sheffield United's won their last four, and a good fuck after a win always seems to make life seem that much better.

_Oh, you shouldn't have thought about fucking,_ Sean thinks, groaning softly.

"Yeah, well, imagine how I feel," Bill says, although he doesn't really think Sean is agreeing with him. "Back up over my lap, boy," he adds, swinging his feet off Sean back and sitting a little more upright.

Sean's practically as eager as he is when he's in pet headspace. He climbs up and tries to make himself settle down, but he can't help squirming. He licks his lips, fighting off images of being allowed to squirm until he comes all over Bill's thighs. Getting to lick it up. Getting fucked afterward, right when it would hurt enough to make him scream. He nearly whimpers.

"You getting a little desperate there, boy?" Bill asks, pinching at the bruise on Sean's ass.

"Yes, master," Sean says, gasping at the pinch and pressing back hopefully. "Master, please... more?"

"Oh, that much I can guarantee," Bill says, bringing his hand down sharply. He keeps to the same side as before -- Sean's left cheek -- as he sets a nice brisk rhythm.

_Lucky me,_ Sean thinks, groaning more and pressing back into the spanks. It feels good, just _so_ good, but it's getting more and more difficult not to think about getting fucked. _Want -- so much -- master --_ "--please," Sean groans, "God, please, _please_!"

"What is it you want, boy?" Bill asks without pausing.

"Master, please," Sean pants, "please, your slave wants to be fucked so badly..."

Not at all surprised, Bill grins broadly. "No," he says, pinching the bruise again. "Feel free to keep begging, but you get fucked when I say so."

"Yes, master," Sean says, groaning louder this time. "Fuck, feels _so_ good... your slave's dying for it, master, please, please..."

"If you can still talk, you're hardly dying for it," Bill says as he smacks Sean's ass one more time. "Time to go downstairs, boy."

While he doesn't make Sean crawl, Bill does take the leash in hand and lead Sean down the stairs with it. "OK, here's what I want you to do, boy. I'm going to put you in the suspension cuffs, but before that, I need you to pick out three things you want me to use to hurt you."

"Yes, master." Sean flashes Bill a grin and starts looking through the toys. His tongue's poking out between his lips as he makes his first selection -- a set of zippers -- and his second, which is a nice heavy leather strap. The third thing makes him turn to look back at Bill with raised eyebrows. "Would you be willing to let me pick out a knife for the third item, master? Or should I look for something else?"

"I'd like it very much if you picked out a knife," Bill says, not caring that he sounds somewhat formal. He's actually thrilled that Sean feels good about knife play, and he pulls his key ring from his belt tossing it to Sean so he can unlock the cabinet that Bill keeps his knives in.

Sean actually lets out an "_oooh_" sound when he gets the cabinet unlocked and has Bill's knife collection to choose from. He chuckles at himself; it's been so long since knives sent that particular shiver up his spine, since he felt so good about playing with them, and now he gets to pick one. He ends up taking one that's big enough to be scary even if it doesn't get used to cut, one with a hilt he could get fucked with. Sean's nothing if not open to possibilities.

Knife and strap and zippers in hand, he kneels at Bill's feet to present all three. He's grinning again. He really doesn't think he could stop grinning.

Bill's pretty sure he's grinning as much as Sean is, and he shakes his head a little as he takes the toys from Sean, stuffing the knife in its sheath into his back pocket. "Ambitious slut, aren't you?" he asks, putting the zipper and the strap on a nearby table so he can grab a pair of good suspension cuffs.

After getting Sean situated on the chain that hangs from the ceiling, he runs his hands over Sean's body lightly. "You're a good boy; I'm glad I own you."

Sean feels like he could purr under Bill's hands. "Thank you, master," he murmurs. "I'm glad you own me, too. _So_ fucking glad."

"Now," Bill says with the slightly smug smiles he's sure is all too common these days. "Let's get you screaming." He grabs the zipper, looks at it and shakes his head. "Can't have asymmetry." Going to the cabinet, he takes out a second zipper and comes back to Sean.

"Better." Working quickly, Bill clamps the clothespins to Sean's side starting at his waistline and going up to the inside of his arm at the elbow.

It feels like a handful of tiny bites, all of which have Sean wanting to squirm. It's good enough when they go on; they're going to hurt like hell when they come off, and he can't wait. "Thank you, master."

"Good boy," Bill murmurs, flicking one of the clothespins with his finger before taking up the second strand and placing them on the other side. Once they're in place, he plays with them a bit, enjoying the noises Sean makes and the way he moves.

Sean's grateful Bill doesn't mind the way he's squirming. He's getting hurt far too nicely to hold still -- at least not without being ordered -- and he's gasping as Bill twists a pin near his waist. "God, Master..."

"You think _that_ hurts," Bill says, moving back to take up the strap. "Wait'll I start really working you over." Stepping behind Sean, he aims and lands a blow right on the bruise from earlier.

"Fuck, hell, _yes_," Sean pants, grinning through the pain. "Thank you, master."

"You're welcome, boy," Bill says, moving in and starting up the beating for real, landing the strap hard on Sean's ass and thighs. He supposes that one day it's just possible that he might get tired of beating Sean, but right now he can't think of anything he'd rather be doing.

There's certainly nowhere else Sean would be right now. Bill's so damned good at this. _And I get him for two years. Two years!_ Sean's practically giddy over that, and he lets out a sharp yell at one particularly nice blow against his thighs. "Fuck, thank you, master!"

"Not any time soon, boy," Bill says with a chuckle. He moves up then, working the strap over Sean's upper back and shoulders. It's good, damn good, to have a boy who likes pain as much as Sean does. _Someone who really appreciates the sadistic side of me._

Sean's sounds are all grateful ones, even though they're coming out harsher and harsher as Bill keeps going and the pain digs in. It's not the first time Sean's gotten to feel just how good a fit they make, and it's not going to be the last time; he just hopes he never takes Bill for granted. _He needs to know how glad I am to be his,_ Sean thinks, and even if he can't say the words right now, he makes a mental note to say them later, and say them often.

Pausing for a moment, Bill reaches up and toys with the nearest zipper, twisting a clothes pin and smiling. "You need this, don't you," he demands. "You fucking love it when someone's hurting you, don't you boy?"

Sean's panting too hard to be able to answer. The pain from that twist is so damned _sharp_, and so good, and the best he can do is to look at Bill and moan.

"Do better, boy," Bill growls, stepping back a little.

"Oh -- Christ, master," Sean pants, "fuck -- fucking need it -- please -- please, love getting hurt, love you hurting me, please, Christ, more?"

"Good boy," Bill says, moving around in front to kiss Sean hard, his fingers playing with random clothespins as he bites at Sean's lips. Once he can finally pull himself away from the kiss -- _no easy task with Sean; he's fantastic to kiss_ \-- he moves back a little and begins to carefully strap the front of Sean's thighs, each blow precise and hard.

And Sean's back to hard, loud groans with every blow, gasping as Bill lands the strap hard in just the right way. Saying he loves it is an understatement. He's going to be sore tomorrow; his jeans are going to scratch against welts, and it's going to drive him completely insane. _Perfect. Love this. So lucky._ "Oh God -- fuck -- thank you," Sean pants.

"Good boy," Bill says, finally finishing up. He moves in close again, running his hand over the heated skin of Sean's thighs. "Are you ready to bleed for me, boy?" he asks. "Ready to have me cut you open?"

_Oh, Christ._ Sean knows he has to respond to that; he swallows hard and catches his breath before nodding. "Yes, master --_please_, Christ, yes, master, please let me bleed for you. Please...!"

"Fuck, you sound good begging, boy," Bill says, pulling the knife out of his back pocket and unsheathing it. He tests the blade carefully with his thumb, nodding and then holds it up in front of Sean's face for a moment. "Gonna hurt you," he says, his voice deadly serious. "Gonna cut you and watch you bleed."

The first cut is a long straight line down Sean's chest, from the base of his throat right down to his navel. It's a fairly shallow cut; Bill knows about Sharpe and is willing to bet that Sean'll be taking his shirt off more than once in front of the cameras.

There's no fear, even though Sean does have to hold himself still against the urge to shiver. The look of metal against his skin is beautiful, and the scratch and sting of it makes him let out a low moan. "Please," Sean whispers. "Master..." He's got more words catching in the back of his throat, the kind of words he's not ready to say yet and he's for damned sure not going to say in the middle of a scene while his master's cutting him. "Please," he whispers again.

"Yeah, beg for it, boy," Bill says, moving the knife down and pressing the flat side against Sean's cock for a moment. The next cut is high on Sean's thigh, and it's a deeper cut, moving at an angle down from the inside of Sean's thigh to the outside. It bleeds almost instantly and Bill is torn between watching the blood well up on Sean's pale skin and watching Sean's face.

Sean's having a hard time choosing between closing his eyes and focusing on the sensations, watching the way he's bleeding for Bill, and watching Bill's reactions to drawing blood. His eyes move from his thigh to Bill's knife to Bill's expression, and he moans a little when he sees Bill's face. "Master... thank you," Sean whispers.

Reaching down, Bill drags his fingers along the cut and then holds them up to Sean's mouth. "Lick it up, boy. Lick your own blood off my fingers." Sean looks so serious and Bill knows that the look is echoed on his own face; this is big, and he can't ever imagine it not being big.

Damn near whimpering just at the thought of getting to taste his blood on Bill's skin, Sean takes the first lick -- just the tip of his tongue moving up Bill's finger -- and then groans out loud, licking up more and hoping Bill realizes how much it means to him that Bill's letting him do it.

Pushing his fingers into Sean's mouth, Bill growls. "Suck them, slut. Suck them like you'd suck my cock."

Sean does exactly that, sucking hard, using his tongue on the underside of Bill's fingers and moaning around them. It's not hard finding the enthusiasm for that, not in the least. He wraps his tongue around Bill's fingers and sucks until he's licked up every drop of his blood, and Christ, all he wants is _more_.

"Such a slut for it," Bill says, finally pulling his fingers out of Sean's mouth. "Such a fucking _good_ slut." He brings the knife down again, slicing a line across Sean's other thigh, nodding his approval at the symmetry of it. "You want more, don't you, boy?"

"Yes! Please, master," Sean whispers, eyes closing at the sting from the third cut. "Want everything -- anything -- for you, master, please."

"Good boy," Bill murmurs, completely caught up in the moment now. Stepping behind Sean, he rests a hand on Sean's hip. "I'm going to cut you twice more," he says. "And then it will be time for those zippers to come off."

The two cuts are made quickly, two slanting lines that form a V on Sean's ass, one line per cheek. Knowing that he can do this here without hitting any major arteries, Bill makes the cuts deep, and it hits him like a blow to the chest as he watches Sean bleed.

It's no less powerful for Sean. This is what it feels like to trust someone all the way to your bones, he knows, and it's a feeling that warms him and makes him hard and has him wanting to beg all at once. "Master, yes, please -- oh, God, anything," Sean moans, closing his eyes hard while more words come up and get pushed aside for later.

"Hold on, boy," Bill says, reaching for the end of one of the zippers. "I want you to scream for me and then, when I've pulled them both off, you can beg me to fuck you." With that, he gives a hard yank and pulls the zipper off, starting at the bottom.

_Jesus fucking hell._ It's hard to believe something as simple as a line of clothespins can hurt like that when it comes off, but _God_ that hurts, and it's fucking fantastic. Sean gives Bill a full-throated, aching scream, fingers clenching hard into fists, and he's glad for the support of the suspension cuffs when he's done screaming.

Sean's screams are incredible, and Bill knows he's grinning widely as he moves around in front of Sean. Once Sean's caught his breath, Bill pulls the second zipper off, going from top to bottom this time and focusing on Sean's face, wanting to _see_ his boy screaming.

The second zipper hurts more than the first; it's so easy to underestimate how much it's going to hurt when the pain from the first one is still making Sean's side throb. And he screams again, hurting like hell and loving it.

"Holy _fuck_," Bill says, more to himself than to Sean. He hardly gives Sean time to catch his breath before he's moving in for a kiss that's hard enough to leave Sean's mouth sore and swollen.

For once Sean's barely able to do more than offer Bill his mouth. He's still recovering from both zippers and, as much as he loves the way Bill's kissing him, doesn't have the energy to kiss back just as hard. But this feels good, too: just opening up and giving Bill everything.

"Your screams make me want to fuck you," Bill says once he's done with Sean's mouth. "So does that blood running down your legs. You want that too, boy? Want me to fuck you with nothing but your own blood for lube?" He still can feel the shock in himself at the idea of fucking Sean bare, let alone mixing it with blood play.

The idea's startling enough to make Sean's eyes snap open, focusing hard on Bill's as the words sink in. "Yes," he whispers, and then, stronger, "_fuck_, yes, master, _yes_, please!"

"I'll need to cut you again," Bill says, drawing it out. "Are you sure?" He can't help remembering his original idea for today, which basically involved him getting Sean to beg until he was essentially speechless. _Wonder if I'll hold out that long._

"I'm sure," Sean whispers, wishing he were close enough to nuzzle at Bill. "I'm sure as long as you are." It's a step he wasn't expecting Bill to want to take; even fucking bareback doesn't approach the kind of trust and faith in each other this implies. But God, he wants it. "Please, master?"

"Please what?" Bill says, moving in close so he can speak right into Sean's ear. "Tell me what you want, boy. Beg for what you want."

"Please..." Sean licks his lips, rubs his cheek against Bill's. "Please, master, fuck your slave with his own blood? Please..."

"Yeah?" Bill growls, letting Sean nuzzle him a moment before he pulls back. "I'm not sure you really want this, boy." He moves behind Sean, leaning in to bite at Sean's shoulder.

Sean cries out and presses back against Bill as much as he can. "Please, master," he says, "oh, fuck, please, your slave wants it so much. Wants it so _fucking_ badly, master, wants your cock in him, wants to bleed for you, give you that so you can fuck me with it and hurt me and _Christ_ please, please, master, _please_!"

Bill continues to bite and nuzzle at Sean's neck and shoulders, listening as Sean runs out of words. By the time Sean's reduced to incoherent, desperate repetitions of "please" and "Master," Bill's more than ready to fuck him. _Hell, I was more than ready about a half an hour ago,_ he thinks as he rests a hand on the small of Sean's back again.

Sean holds himself steady, but it's not without effort. He licks his lips again, whispering out "please" one last time, wanting this enough that it takes his breath away.

The two cuts Bill makes on Sean's ass parallel the first two and are just as deep; before Bill's done with the second one, the first is already bleeding freely. Sliding his fingers through the blood, Bill shoves two of them into Sean, twisting sharply.

Sean gasps and makes a loud noise low in his throat; there's nothing like this, nothing that even comes close to echoing the feel of it, and that it's _Bill_ \-- he shoves back and manages a moan. "_Please!_"

After stripping off his jeans, Bill gets his other hand wet. Slicking up his cock, he pauses, needing to take a deep breath as he looks down while positioning himself. _Jesus fucking Christ, he's bleeding enough for me to do this. He **wants** this. Fuck ... he's so fucking perfect._

"So perfect," he says aloud just before shoving into Sean hard. Once in, he grabs Sean's hips and begins fucking Sean as hard as he can, even though he knows he won't last long like this.

There are no words. Just noises that get increasingly louder as Bill drives into him, hands steadying Sean's hips, the scent of blood, sweat and sex getting stronger by the second. Sean's eyes shut tight, and he focuses on hanging on, not collapsing and not coming before he's told. It's been years, _years_ since he's had anything like this, and even then -- even then, it was nothing compared to how he feels now.

Bill's also reduced to wordless noises, and if he were thinking about anything but the incredible feel of Sean -- so fucking tight and hot around him -- he'd be amused at how primal it sounds with both of them grunting and gasping and groaning. It gets even more primal a few moments later when, with a loud yell, Bill comes hard, all but clinging to Sean so he doesn't just fall over from the intensity of it.

Sean screams out as soon as Bill comes; it's a miracle he doesn't go right over with him. He can't even find enough voice and words to beg. Bill was right. This is as perfect as Sean can imagine life getting.

"Jesus," Bill says hoarsely as he catches his breath. "Fuck ... that was .. damn, boy. That was fucking incredible." He leans in and kisses Sean's shoulder before pulling out. Catching sight of the marks from his hands on Sean's hip gives him an idea and he rubs his hand across the cuts on Sean's ass. They haven't had time to close up, and when Bill walks around in front of Sean, he can hold up a bloody hand.

"Beg for it, boy," Bill says. "And I'll jerk you off."

_Beg_, Sean thinks, licking his lips, trying to find the words. "Please?" he whispers, testing out the sound of it. That's the right word, so the next time he tries, he's a little stronger. "_Please_," he whispers, "Master, _please_, please --please, master -- I -- God -- please?"

"I bet you're just fucking aching for it by now, aren't you, boy?" Bill asks, reaching up and tugging hard on one of Sean's nipples. "Bet you're feeling like you're gonna die if you don't come."

"_Ahhh--!_ Please -- master, yes, Christ, so much, so badly, please, master, please!" Sean babbles out, past knowing or caring whether he's managing to string words together well enough to make sense.

For a long moment, Bill does nothing but look at Sean, half tempted to say "no" and leave Sean in torment even longer. But he's pushed Sean so fucking hard today and Sean's been damn good, giving Bill everything he wanted and not once misbehaving.

"All right, boy," he says, reaching down and squeezing Sean's cock. "You've been good," he continues as he strokes roughly. "So yeah. Give it to me." As he gives permission, he reaches under Sean's balls and unsnaps the cock ring Sean's been wearing all this time.

It's the sound of Bill's voice that really gets to Sean, past the slick feel of his blood against his cock or the sudden grateful release when the cock ring comes free. It's _Bill_, and the way Bill gets to him every time, the way Sean feels so safe with him, the way it feels _right_ having Bill get to him this way.

He doesn't even try for words; he just comes, streaking Bill's fingers with it, white smearing against red on Bill's hand.

"Fucking beautiful," Bill says. "_My_ boy. Mine." He moves in close and braces Sean, making sure Sean doesn't end up slumping and putting all his weight on his wrists. "Such a good fucking boy, too."

"Master..." Sean moans, leaning against Bill and letting Bill support him. "Master, I -- God -- thank you," he says, stumbling over the words. "Thank you -- wanted -- _so much_, Christ, master, thank you so much." The same words he's been struggling not to say all day long are coming up harder than ever, and it's amazing how difficult it is holding them back. But even as fuzzy-headed as Sean is after the scene and the orgasm, he knows it's not the right time. _Don't ruin this that way._

"I want you to do one more thing for me," Bill says, leaning forward for a quick kiss before bringing his hand up to Sean's mouth. "You know what to do, boy."

_Someday_, Sean thinks, _I want it to be your come and my blood I'm licking up..._ He starts slowly, meeting Bill's eyes between licks. And it dawns on him, really dawns on him, that he's marked inside and out now. _And I want to be._

"That's my good boy," Bill says. "Lick up like a good slut." He waits until Sean is just done and then leans in for a kiss, wanting to taste all of Sean, blood and come and his boy's mouth. _Goddamn, if I could get hard again...._

This time Sean _does_ kiss back, tongue sliding against Bill's as he moans into the kiss. It makes him want to keep kissing until one or the other of them's ready for more sex -- _though at our ages that could be a while._

Finally Bill pulls away. "I'll want more of that," he says, "But I really need to check those cuts and clean them up." He reaches up to release Sean from the cuffs. "And that's going to hurt more, of course."

"Nnn." Sean nods and steadies himself on Bill's shoulders when his hands are freed. "I can't--" He grins, maybe too broadly, but he can't help himself. "I can't believe you went that far with me. Christ, that was amazing."

"I can't believe it either, boy," Bill says with a chuckle as he walks Sean over to the bed. "You inspire me."

Sean winces while he stretches out. Bill's right; it's going to hurt getting his cuts taken care of. "I like that," he says softly, reaching out to run his hand up Bill's arm. "I like knowing I make you feel that way." He almost winces again from how damned sentimental he sounds. _Leftover emotions from the scene._

Bending, Bill kisses Sean gently. "I like the way we fit," he murmurs. "Sadist to masochist, top to bottom." He kisses Sean again. "Hang on," he says getting up and heading to the small downstairs bathroom. When he comes back, he's got several warm damp towels and a first aid kit.

"All right, let's get you cleaned up so I can look at those cuts."

Sean's cooperative while Bill looks him over and gets him cleaned up. There's a good amount of blood to take care of, but none of the cuts are dangerous at all, and Bill's hands are gentle. That doesn't stop the alcohol from stinging like hell, but it's hard to mind wincing after a scene like that. After Bill's patched him up, Sean has to grin. "I haven't done that in years," he says softly. "Thank you."

"Neither have I," Bill says, finally stripping off his clothes and settling down with Sean on the bed. "It's a damn powerful thing," he adds, running a finger lightly down the slight scratch on Sean's chest. "How are you doing?"

Sean shivers, but it's with a nice broad grin up at Bill. "Really well, master," he says softly. "I can't stop thinking about how glad I am to be here. And I love every mark you've put on me." _You sound like a girl_, half of him thinks, but the other half's still dizzy and coming out of headspace and truly doesn't give a damn.

"I'm rather fond of those marks myself, boy," Bill says. "And I'm damn glad for the whim that brought me here to London." He shakes his head. "It was a tossup between here and Paris, but I lived in Paris for a couple of years a while back and hadn't ever lived here. Weird how life works out, really."

"Christ, I'm glad you came here instead of Paris," Sean murmurs, moving closer to Bill so he can tuck his head into Bill's shoulder. "So fucking glad you're here."

"Yeah," Bill says, "me too." He bends his head a little and kisses Sean. "I was thinking, about India...."

Sean winces just at the thought of India. Normally he doesn't mind work, but he's been dreading leaving Bill behind for months. "Yeah?" he says quietly.

"You're gonna be gone for a few months," Bill says, not sure what to make of Sean's noncommittal answer. "That's ... I'll miss you."

"I hate that," Sean mumbles against Bill's chest. "Hate having to be away for so long. I do it, we all do it, but I hate having to go."

"I, um ... I've never been to India," Bill says as if he hasn't spent the last couple of nights thinking this over. "Might be kind of interesting to go."

Sean's breath catches hard at that. It's a second before he can speak. "Would you go with me?" he asks.

Sitting up, Bill looks down at Sean seriously. "I'd love to, but the work comes first. I don't want to be in the way."

"You won't be in the way," Sean says, leaning up so he can look at Bill. "God, you could never get in the way." He frowns, though, imagining what it might be like having Bill with him in India. "I might -- not be able to stay in role quite as well when I'm working," he says. "I might need more time out of it than not."

"Oh, of course," Bill says quickly. "I figured that we'd have to talk through that." He grins. "I'm capable of looking after both of us."

"You could do anything," Sean mumbles, before realizing just how that makes him sound, and he shakes his head. "You wouldn't mind it? I can be hell to live with when I'm working. It's why I've never asked a lover to join me before."

"I'm not always fun to be around when I'm working either," Bill says. "And this ADR I was doing with Milla and Kurt doesn't count as real work. But ... Sean, if it would be easier on you not to have to have your master there, I can understand and respect that."

"Are you going as my master?" Sean counters, trying to be gentle about it. "If I said I could only be Sean -- still ready to hurt for you, still rolling over for you, but just Sean -- would you still want to go?" His chest tightens up, and he wonders if he would have asked that if it weren't for being in that post-scene place where it's all right to be vulnerable, where it doesn't occur to him he can't trust Bill with every part of him. But he wants to know. Needs to know, now that he's asked.

"Of course," Bill says. "I enjoyed the time out of role in Portugal." He grins a little. "Not to say that I might not add the time onto the end of the contract to make sure I get my full two years out of you."

Sean's grin is broad enough it must look faintly ridiculous, he thinks. But he can't help it. "That sounds perfectly reasonable to me, master."

"Well, then," Bill says, "I'll have to make sure I read up on the part of the country we're going to." He smiles and puts on an affected British accent. "Inja, m'boy. We're off to Inja."

Sean raises an eyebrow at that, wondering if Bill realizes they let him keep his own accent for Sharpe. "That we are, sir. My lads are a bit rough around the edges, but they'll keep you safe enough."

Bill can't help laughing. "Oh, I can see that we'll have some fun with this," he says, reverting to his normal accent. He reaches out and brushes a finger across Sean's collar. "Until we go, however, you're still _my_ boy."

"Mmmm." Sean shivers just a little with Bill's touch. _Damn right I'm your boy,_ he thinks, tongue sliding out over his lips. "Yes, master," he murmurs.

_-end-_


End file.
